A Mile in His Shoes
by fbeauchamphartz
Summary: Sebastian buys a special potion that will allow him to switch bodies with Kurt for 12 hours so he can finally have sex with Blaine, but when Blaine's not available, Sebastian finds Kurt's diary and begins to realize that just maybe he's had his sights set on the wrong guy all a long. Kurt H. Sebastian S. Blaine A. Sam E.


**A/N:** _For the anon prompt 'bodyswap'. People have been asking me for a while to continue this. It's coming along slowly, and I apologize about that right now, but there will be more to this._

The second he starts to wake up Sebastian knows it worked. He doesn't even have to open his eyes to prove that he is no longer lying beneath the satin sheets of his California-King size bed in his penthouse uptown. Everything – the air around him, the mattress underneath him, the skin covering him - just _feels_ different. He takes a moment to run borrowed hands down this stolen body. This chest is narrower, the waist trimmer, the muscles in of the arms and legs leaner. He wraps fingers around an already half-hard cock…whoa…much more impressive than he would have thought.

Who knew that a wacky voodoo potion from some drugged out hippie would actually work?

Sebastian blinks open foreign eyes and looks straight up at the industrial cement ceiling. He raises heavy arms and sees two pale hands with long fingers and perfectly manicured nails.

Oh, yes. It definitely worked. For the next 12 hours Sebastian Smythe is trapped in the body of Kurt Hummel.

That means, if his calculations are right, Kurt is nearly comatose in Sebastian's drugged out body, lying in Sebastian's bed. Damn fucking shit, they are both going to have one hell of a headache this evening, but Sebastian can care less about Hummel and as for himself…that doesn't matter right now. It will all be worth it when he gets his hands (and his mouth, and his ass, and everything else he can conceivably think of) on the body of Blaine Anderson.

Realization dawns on Sebastian and he runs Kurt's hands over his body again, noticing how his fingers don't touch fabric or slip beneath the waistband of any pants or underwear, which means…

_'Kurt Hummel, you sly dog,'_ Sebastian thinks, enjoying the feel of this different body and Kurt's incredibly soft skin. _'You sleep naked.'_

Which means…Blaine should be lying beside him, also completely naked, ready for his fiancé to have awesome morning sex with him.

Sebastian rolls over, slightly unprepared for minor differences in their heights and weights to be a problem in managing this seemingly simple maneuver, but he makes it onto Kurt's side and finds himself facing an empty rest of the bed.

"Fuck!" Sebastian hisses, startling at the high-pitched voice that echoes through the small space. Sebastian smiles. "Fuck!…Shit!…Fuck fuck fucking ass motherfucker!"

Sebastian laughs, way too amused at the sound of Kurt's prim voice cursing like a sailor. He quiets down and looks around, listening for sounds of life anywhere else in the apartment, but he's alone.

It's Saturday morning. He figured Blaine would be there, if not hanging out in bed with Kurt having some kind of deep, meaningful, Sarah McLachlan love song sort of sex, then making pancakes and singing Showtunes while birds and other forest creatures help him wash the dishes. Sebastian looks around the curtained-in space that passes as Blaine and Kurt's bedroom, judgmentally assessing the second-hand shabby chic furniture mixed with other eclectic pieces and little touches that he can only assume are part of Kurt's design plan and not Blaine's. Sebastian doesn't want to admit it but he doesn't exactly hate what Kurt's done with the place.

Okay, so Kurt Hummel has a good eye for interior design. There. He admits it. Good deed for the day done. Now on to his plan…getting Blaine into bed.

Sebastian spots Kurt's iPhone on the dresser, the message alert light flashing. He stands unsteadily on Kurt's feet, leaning against the bed until he's sure he isn't going to take one step and then face plant into the hardwood floor. He makes his way around the end of the bed, passing a vintage looking full-length mirror and stops. Sebastian had never tried to imagine Kurt naked before, assuming he was pretty much androgynous, possibly with no visible genitalia whatsoever. So the reflection of the muscular body he's staring at, hairless except for his legs, pale without a single blemish or scar, stuns him.

Sebastian turns Kurt's body from side to side, watching the muscles shift beneath the skin, the way every inch of him seems so perfectly proportioned. If Sebastian was ever going to describe a human being as 'sculpted', Kurt, unfortunately, would be that person.

Sebastian sighs. Maybe he's going after the wrong guy.

It only takes the memory of Kurt calling him a meerkat to break him from his stupor and send him back on his merry way towards the phone.

Sebastian picks it up, almost fumbling it a few times as he gets used to Kurt's fingers and the way they move. Sebastian figures he better practice grabbing things if he's going to properly take care of Blaine. Sebastian unlocks the screen and checks the first unread message.

_From: Blaine_

_Walked Rachel to the farmer's market. See you later. I love you._

Sebastian grimaces as he reads the message again. Geez, Blaine has to be pretty neutered if he'd leave his sexy boyfriend naked in bed to walk with young Barbra Streisand to the farmer's market.

Yeah, he called Kurt 'sexy'. He would deal with the consequences of that one late.

Sebastian smiles, dialing Blaine's number. He will simply have to lure Blaine back to the loft with the promise of a blowjob or something.

Blaine answers on the first ring, and Sebastian grins.

_That's definitely promising._

"Hey, Kurt," the smooth voice on the line greets him.

"Hey handsome," Sebastian replies, trying to make Kurt's voice sound rough and sexy, and damn if it doesn't work a little too well because Sebastian can feel himself getting hard at the sound of Kurt's seductive voice. "I miss you. Why don't you come back and I'll show you just how much?"

Blaine sighs, the silence dragging on much longer than Sebastian thinks necessary.

"Kurt," Blaine says, the single word sounding annoyed instead of insanely turned on, "we talked about this. You know I have an audition on Friday, and I am observing the 'Audition Tradition'…no fooling around for the week before so I don't risk getting sick."

_'What?'_ Sebastian thinks. _'That sounds insane.'_

Sebastian's mind whirls, trying to find a response that sounds like Kurt.

"But I miss you," he says, gagging quietly in front of the mirror where he moved back to watch the reaction of Kurt's body to the sound of his voice.

_'Hmm…he's definitely a grower…'_

"Oh, baby," Blaine coos, "I'll be back in an hour. I promise."

Sebastian sighs.

"Yeah…okay. One hour."

"I love yo—"

Sebastian doesn't wait for Blaine to finish before he hangs up, tossing the iPhone on the bed.

An hour.

Blaine would be back in an hour.

And then Sebastian would find a way to pry him out of his pants, 'audition tradition' or no 'audition tradition'.

Though the prospect starts looking less appealing the more Sebastian thinks about.

Maybe Kurt isn't the frigid bitch in this relationship.

An hour.

What is there to do in Bushwick for an hour?

Sebastian has no intention of leaving the house, and not because he likes hanging around in Kurt's body complete naked he tells himself, but because he wouldn't be caught dead in any body wearing Kurt's excuse for a wardrobe.

Sebastian sweeps the space with his eyes, and finds a footlocker in the corner covered by a pile of blankets…_and_ it's locked.

Bingo.

Sebastian walks over and examines the the lock. A padlock…it needs a key.

Sebastian rummages over the dresser, moving bottles and bowties, bizarre animal head brooches and various banally-shaped pins.

He moves on to a squat dresser over by the bed and sifts through the drawers. In the bottom drawer, hidden beneath a collection of brightly-colored scarves (Sebastian can appreciate the thinking behind keeping scarves in a drawer right next to the bed) are a collection of leather bound journals. Sebastian pulls them out and spreads them on the bed. There must be around ten of them in total, each one with a different year stamped on the cover in gold. Sebastian picks the journal with the current year and flips to the last entry.

It was written just yesterday.

Sebastian sits on the bed and crosses his legs, preparing to read.

_Dear diary –_

Sebastian groans. What is he, twelve?

_I think I've finally reached the end of my rope. I love him too much to leave, but I love myself too much to stay. What do I do?_

"Oops, trouble in paradise," Sebastian murmurs. Sebastian wants to gloat more over Kurt's apparent despair, but for some reason he can't. A tiny twinge of guilt hits him when he not only re-reads the words, but notices the handwriting – sloppy, wobbly, some of the ink smeared, parts of the page lighter than the others, as if something dripped in those spots…maybe tears?

Sebastian grabs a handful of pages and turns back in the book. He finds a promising looking passage and begins reading.

_Dear diary – Blaine messed up my coffee order again. _

Sebastian chuckles.

"Oh, boo-hoo…"

_He claims it was the barista's fault, but he messed it up last week, too, at a completely different coffee shop. And the exact same order. Mocha soy latte with a shot of espresso. How does that combination even make sense? When I complained about it, he called me a bitch. He actually called me a bitch in front of everyone. People were staring. I can honestly care less about the coffee; I just can't help but wonder if __**he**__ took his coffee that way._

Sebastian opens Kurt's eyes wide.

_He?_

_Did Blaine Anderson, Mr. Perfect, Sex on a stick and sings like a dream, cheat on Kurt Hummel?_

Sebastian can't believe it. How did he not hear about this before?

Sebastian can't help but feel a little burnt himself. Blaine stepped out on Kurt, and Sebastian was obviously not first on the list of candidates. More than that, Sebastian wonders…why did Kurt take him back?

Sebastian flips forward through the pages.

_Dear diary – The daydream I had about living in New York with my best friend and my fiancé is much different than the reality. Who knew that a loft the size of an airplane hangar would feel so cramped with the addition of one other person…correction – __two__ other people. Apparently now wherever Blaine goes, Sam goes, too. You would think everything would have evened out when Santana decided to move in with Dani, but it hasn't. The closed-in feeling isn't the only side effect of Sam's omnipresence. Blaine barely wants to have sex anymore. He doesn't feel comfortable doing it with Sam in the house. And we don't go out on dates alone together as often as I want because he feels bad leaving Sam out. But my feelings of abandonment don't seem to stop them from all the bro-dates (Sam's word, not mine) that they go on. Midnight movie marathons, sporting events, piggy back rides in the park (I kid you not). I would normally find solace hanging out with Rachel, but with almost all day Funny Girl rehearsals, I never see her. Who knew that living with my three roommates in a city of about 8,000,000 people that I could feel so lonely?_

Sebastian swallows hard. Whenever he saw Blaine and Kurt together, they looked like the stereotypical sappy couple. He never knew about any of this. Of course, Sebastian admits that he's an ass. He looks at Kurt's reflection in the mirror to confirm it.

Yes. Sebastian Smythe is an ass.

But he's an ass that knows a little something about loneliness.

Never really been in love.

Only had fair-weather friends.

Living alone in his expensive penthouse uptown.

Sebastian looks at the iPhone and catches a glimpse of the time.

8:45 a.m.

Blaine should be back in about fifteen minutes, but Sebastian can't imagine that he'll actually be on time. Besides, there wouldn't be anything suspicious about naked Kurt reading through his own journals, so Sebastian picks the first one and starts to read.

_Dear diary –_

_The therapist my dad is sending me to recommends writing in a diary every day so that I can sort out my feelings about losing my mom. Well, here goes…_

_It sucks that she's dead._

_It hurts not having her around._

_Oh yeah, and my therapist should jump off a tall bridge._

_Just a recommendation of my own._

Sebastian laughs, shaking Kurt's head.

_Dear diary –_

_Did you know that a Slushie to the face feels like ice cold shards of glass cutting through your skin? Because it does…_

_Dear diary –_

_Mercedes thought we were dating. I got out of it by telling her I'm in love with Rachel._

_It's kind of like shooting yourself in the head to escape a wild bull attack._

_Dear diary –_

_I can't keep hiding who I am, especially from my dad. It feels like lying. I can be anything. What I am is gay…_

_Dear diary – _

_A jock and his friends threw pee balloons at me, and as pissed as I am (defusing anger through humor right there, by the way) I can't help but think about the mechanics of peeing into a balloon…_

_Dear diary –_

_Another day…another dumpster toss…another fabulous designer outfit ruined…_

Journal after journal, entry after entry of Kurt's life.

Bullying.

Violence.

Intolerance.

A lifetime spent fighting to be seen, hoping to be accepted. And every single time someone pushed him down, he got right back up again.

But it's the entries about Blaine that really turn Sebastian's (or Kurt's…literal or figurative…too confusing) stomach. Sebastian thought that meeting Blaine was like winning the lottery for Kurt. Otherwise, why would he hold onto him so hard? Why would he fight Sebastian tooth and nail to keep him?

The next entry he reads answers his question.

_Dear diary –_

_Do you think that Stephen Chbosky is right?_

_Do we accept the love we think we deserve?_

Another one…one he is prepared to hate…nearly breaks his heart.

_Dear diary –_

_I hate Sebastian Smythe. I hated him in Ohio, but I hate him more now that he's managed to worm his way back into our lives by getting accepted into NYU. Just when I thought he was gone, he just pops right back up._

_He seems to want Blaine so much. I know he probably doesn't love him. It would just be fun for him to break us up._

_But what about me? What does he see in Blaine that he doesn't see in me? I know I'm not the 'alpha gay' that Blaine is, but I'm not chopped liver._

_How come no one is trying to steal me away from Blaine?_

Sebastian closes the journal and crosses Kurt's arms over his chest.

So many burdens. So much pain Sebastian never knew about - his mom dead, his father's health always at risk, and this relationship with Blaine that never seems to be on stable ground.

Sebastian knows his moral compass doesn't always point in the right direction, but even he can see this isn't right. Kurt shouldn't have to go through this anymore.

Sebastian doesn't know if it's a consequence of the time he has spent in Kurt's body, but he feels strangely protective of him; a kind of peculiar affection blooming in Sebastian's heart as he replays every interaction they have ever had, trying to re-read every emotion, every shift of his eyes, every smile that most likely hid something deeper.

He turns back to the mirror, sees Kurt's reflection staring back at him, those impossibly blue eyes, that honest face, the masterpiece of a body that he's inhabited against Kurt's will for the last few hours.

Suddenly Sebastian feels very foolish.

He wishes he could add a few lines to the entry in Kurt's journal; the one that asks what Blaine has that he doesn't. If he could, it would read, "There's nothing he has that you don't, Kurt Hummel. I can see myself falling for you, too."

Sebastian hears the loft door slide open, and more than one pair of feet shuffle in. Sebastian looks at Kurt's phone and sees it's now eleven o'clock. Sebastian bites his lips, feels Kurt's entire body rush with heat.

Blaine is two hours late…and Sebastian is pissed.

Sebastian grabs a shirt and a pair of jeans, and though the shirt goes on relatively easy, the jeans take a little fiddling before he can do up the fly.

Sebastian in Kurt's body storms through the curtains of the partitioned room (amazed at his ease since his first few attempts at movement were unspectacular to say the least) and bears down on Blaine, so distracted with whatever conversation he and Sam are having that he doesn't seem to notice his boyfriend flying at him, fury painting his face scarlet.

"Where the fuck have you been, Blaine Anderson?" Kurt's voice roars, and this time Sebastian doesn't try to think of something that real Kurt might say. Either way, the accusation fits.

"I was out…" Blaine says, laughter dying in his throat, wide whiskey-colored eyes confused, "…with Sam." Blaine rests a hand on Sam's shoulder and Sam at least has the decency to shrink beneath the furious man's glare.

"Oh, really? And when did you make that decision? When I spoke to you at eight o'clock this morning, you were walking baby Babette to the farmer's market, and you said you were going to be gone only an hour. It's eleven o'clock Blaine, and it's Saturday! Did you even stop to think that maybe I would want to spend time with you, too?"

Sebastian, feeling Kurt's body tremble around him as his anger builds, realizes he no longer cares about fucking Blaine. But Kurt…Kurt didn't deserve to be stood up by the man who supposedly loves him.

"The day's not even half over yet, Kurt." Blaine argues. "Sam told me about this great exhibit downtown I thought we could all go to…"

"That's not the kind of time I had in mind, Blaine," Sebastian seethes on Kurt's behalf. "What about our private time, Blaine? What about a good old-fashioned Saturday afternoon fuck fest? It seems like those have gone the way of the dodo since I inherited the blond bimbo here living on my couch."

"Hey!" Sam cuts in. "Not cool, Kurt."

"Really?" Sebastian says, turning on Sam. "You were homeless once. I don't see why you can't be again!"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupts, keeping his voice even and trying to sound diplomatic, "now that's not fair."

"No, hobbit, what's not fair is that you came out here to New York to be with me. So when exactly does the being with me actually start?"

Sebastian feels Kurt's body become breathless, fists clenched by his sides. This is what it means to be Kurt; to fight his entire life to keep the things that other people get handed to them and take for granted.

"Um…I think maybe I'd better go," Sam says, standing with his hands raised, backing away.

"No, Sam, wait…" Blaine turns and catches him by the arm before he makes it to the door. "I think if we just settle down for a minute, we can all work this out."

"No, Sam's right," Sebastian says, nodding Kurt's head. "It's time that there was one less person in this fucking fun house, and that's me. I'm leaving."

Sebastian turns Kurt back towards the bedroom with Blaine hot on his heels.

"Kurt! Kurt, don't! Kurt, stop!"

Sebastian grabs Kurt's phone off the bed and his wallet from the dresser. He slips on Kurt's signature Doc Marten boots, not even sparing a glance for Blaine racing after him, reaching out a hand to grab his arm.

"Kurt! You can't leave!" Blaine sounds panicked, leaping over the sofa in an attempt to cut his fiancé off. "Please! I love you!"

"No, Blaine," Sebastian calls behind him as he brushes by Sam and heads for the door, "you love _you_. There isn't enough left for anyone else."

* * *

><p><em>'Strutting in Kurt's body has to be the hottest fucking thing in the universe,'<em> Sebastian thinks as he catches Kurt's reflection in the windows of the buildings he walks past on the way to the subway. Sebastian laughs a bitter, somewhat heartbroken laugh. He just succeeded in doing the thing he had been trying to accomplish since high school.

He broke up Kurt and Blaine.

Blaine calls Kurt's phone about a hundred times before Sebastian shuts it off. He sits in silence on the train and thinks of everything that's happened in the last few hours. When he bought that stupid potion to switch places with Kurt, the crunchy granola-eating freak told him that the experience might 'change him'. He thought that was pretty obvious, but he never imagined this. He always thought of Kurt as a stuck-up prissy asshole - a peasant that demanded to be treated like a king - and that Blaine was his adorably hot lap dog. Sebastian always told Kurt that he didn't deserve Blaine.

How oddly right Sebastian was.

It's not that Sebastian hated Kurt. Kurt was competition, so Sebastian never really let himself dwell on what could be considered the finer parts of Kurt Hummel. Deep down Sebastian recognized that Kurt was smart, talented, with a razor sharp tongue that matched his own, and now that he's grown into his own fashion sense, Sebastian wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with Kurt in public.

Kurt doesn't need someone wishy-washy like Blaine, who would pick bromance over romance. Kurt needs a man with balls and a spinal cord.

Sebastian considers whether or not _he_ could be that guy.

Sebastian makes it uptown without remembering a single step of the journey. He manages to flirt his way past security (how did he never notice that Ryan the security guard was gay?) and up to his penthouse by way of a private elevator, thankful that he thought to leave his door unlocked.

He makes a beeline for the bedroom, kicks off Kurt's boots, and climbs into bed beside his sleeping body. It's surreal to look at his own face, knowing that Kurt is trapped behind there. That alone makes it look unfamiliar, softer, not entirely his own. It goes both ways. Knowing everything he knows about Kurt now, this façade that is Kurt's face and body looks so different when he peeks at it in the mirror. He brushes a lock of brown hair away from sleeping eyes, wondering what kind of morning the real Kurt has had, what kind of dreams he might be having now. While the last remaining hours of their time apart from their bodies drips away, Sebastian concocts the story of what he plans to say to Kurt when he wakes up in Sebastian's bed.

At some point Sebastian drifts off to sleep, but wakes up just as the sharp prickling behind his eyes warns him that the switch will be happening soon. He hears his own body whimpering, knowing Kurt can feel the pain, too, and that it's pulling him from his drug-induced slumber. Sebastian wants to whisper something reassuring, but the agony is so all-encompassing that he can't seem to move. With an instantaneous blinding flash of light and a deafening crack that sounds like his entire skull splitting apart, he's aware that he's back in his own body.

That's when the migraine kicks in.

"Oh, God," Kurt…the real Kurt…groans. Sebastian forces his eyes open, a little disoriented at having suddenly traded places on the bed, to watch as Kurt wakes.

"My head…" Kurt continues to groan. "Why does my head feel…OHMYGOD!"

"Please…don't scream…" Sebastian pleads quietly, and even though Kurt looks furious as well as confused, he agrees.

"What the fuck!" Kurt whispers, lifting a hand to his head to block the mind-numbing throb. "Why the hell am I in your bed?"

"Kurt," Sebastian says, but not quiet enough to keep the room from tilting left and right. He thinks for a moment, deciding to go ahead with his prepared lie. "You called me to come pick you up."

"Why would I do something stupid like that?" Kurt squeezes his eyes shut as his voice raises in pitch.

"Because you were drunk…" Sebastian says, hating himself a little, "…you got into a fight with Blaine…and you left. I brought you back here, and then we got drunk some more."

Kurt gasps, his face a shroud of utter disbelief as he tries his best to recall anything, but then his face relaxes a bit, looking mournful and calm.

"Yeah," he whispers, opening his eyes. "I'm not entirely sure why I would call _you_ of all people, but that sounds about right."

Sebastian is a little surprised but he tries not to show it, though he can't imagine that his face shows anything other than the fact that he wants to drop dead.

Kurt sniffles, and Sebastian sees a small tear race down his cheek.

Sebastian can feel that small tear throughout his whole body.

Kurt looks lost and scared, and Sebastian curses to himself, questioning why he didn't just leave well-enough alone.

"What's wrong?" Sebastian asks, trying to act like an outside observer and not letting on the he has volumes of ill-gained insider knowledge.

"It's just…I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," Kurt confesses. "I have nowhere else to go."

"You can stay with me," Sebastian rushes out too quickly, causing his whole head to ring like a bell.

Kurt's mouth twists in a sarcastic frown.

"Yeah, right," he scoffs, trying to get up, succeeding in lifting his head a quarter of an inch off the pillow, and then dropping back down with a wince. "Why would you help me?"

"You and I…I know we've never exactly been friends…"

"I hate you," Kurt deadpans.

Sebastian wants to laugh, but then his face would crack, and his brain would spill out…he's sure of it.

"Yeah, well there are days I pretty much just want to staple your tongue to a wall, but I'm prepared to look past all that, princess."

Sebastian sees Kurt's face twitch, trying not to smile. Kurt abandons his efforts at a sort-of half-smile, and sighs instead.

"I should just go back," Kurt says slowly, as if he's hoping that Sebastian might disagree.

"No, Kurt," Sebastian says emphatically, headache be damned. "You made a lot of sense, and I think if you go back, you'll just be making a huge mistake."

Sebastian moves, slowly reaching across the distance between them, and after several excruciating seconds places a hand over Kurt's, squeezing gently.

"Don't settle, Kurt," Sebastian says. "Don't settle for the love you think you deserve."

A second tear follows the first down Kurt's cheek. He stares at Sebastian, and Sebastian can see his mind working, sluggishly most likely, dragging itself through the mire of pain that Sebastian shares with him.

Sebastian sees the truth in Kurt's eyes – the pain, the fear, the disappointment.

"Look, you don't have to trust me yet," Sebastian interrupts. "I'm not asking you to. Just…don't go back, not today at least. Think about it. Give yourself time."

Kurt doesn't answer. He tries to nod, but his head refuses to move.

"Okay, blink once for yes and twice for no."

Kurt makes a slight sputtering noise as he tries to hold back a laugh, but blinks once.

"Good." Sebastian is actually relieved by Kurt's answer.

"So, what do we do know?" Kurt asks. "I don't think I can move. This hangover is killing me."

"Yeah," Sebastian agrees. "I've got an idea, since we're going to be here for a while, why don't we tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets."

Kurt's face is expressionless, but his eyes look wary.

"I just thought that maybe we should get to know each other a little better…seeing as we're going to be sharing a bathroom and everything."

Sebastian waits for an answer, but Kurt doesn't give him one, still looking him over skeptically.

"Who knows," Sebastian says with what would be a shrug if he could manage one, "maybe I'm not as much of a shit as you think I am."

Kurt sputters again, and smiles.

"Why not," Kurt says. "Stranger things have happened."

Sebastian returns Kurt's smile.

"You have no idea."


End file.
